What I love, so much, about Anne Carson is how much world she packs onto a paper page. Below is page 2.5 from “Autobiography of Red” an orbit-altering read.
Sunday morning considerations courtesy of Mary Oliver
Such an honor to see my review of Luis Panini’s book The Destruction of the Lover published in Tupelo Quarterly. My review seeks to articulate Lawrence Schimel’s translation of Panini’s original Spanish text, a translation that forms part of the Pleiades Press Series in Translation. Tupelo is a journal I’ve admired for so long. One […]
The Orange Patch in the Center of the Quilt: Lessons of Survival via Self-Love and Community in the Writings of Audre Lorde and Toni Morrison
When Baby Suggs, ultimate matriarch and sorceress in Toni Morrison’s masterpiece “Beloved,” is unable to protect her own kin, to deadly consequence, she retreats from the world to her room to stare at her quilt and lie in “bed to think about the colors of things” (Morrison, Beloved, p208).This quilt is remarkable, not only in […]
Places of wonder abound. Or do they. This is something I wonder about. Does wonder have more to do with mood/temperament of observer or with design/purpose of place. By the way, I am leaving the question marks out on purpose. In order to convey the certainty of my lack of certainty. These are not rhetorical […]
Pictured above is the best book report I’ve ever read, about the actual best book I have ever read. Yes. I think. Coetzee’s “Disgrace” will have to make a more thorough appearance on here soon. Time is ripe for a reread. But, back to this current post, which is about Claudia Rankine’s “Don’t Let Me […]
Scenes from Pulitzer Prize-winning poet Sharon Olds’ first book of poems “Satan Says.” In the background, Paola Pivi’s solo exhibit at the Miami Beach Bass Museum.
“Mimetic” is my Word of the Day. Synonymous (yes, at once!) with “echoic,” “apish,” “slavish” and “canned.” From John D’Agata’s genre-bending, lyrical, US-centered tour of the essay’s recent history: “The Next American Essay.”
A “zorse” is the word to use when speaking of the offspring between a zebra and a horse. Also, say this out-loud: Kanye is half cannon, half ballet. Half canonical, half prey. From Sarah Blake’s “Mr. West”
The fascinating thing about fascination is fascination itself. Obsession works in similar ways. An obsession, a swallowing up of will by all encompassing drive, takes over in inexplicable ways. Callings exist beyond a mere sense of purpose. Why else would there be an entire book of poems on Kanye? Poem “God Created Night and It […]
If you, too, were wondering, this is what forty exclamation marks look like: !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! From Sarah Blake’s “Mr. West”.
“The History of God,” written by former nun Karen Armstrong, has been sitting on my bookshelf for a decade. I bought it in a small bookstore in Mumbai, where I also purchased a book by the Nobel writer V.S. Naipaul, Arundhati Roy’s “The God of Small Things” and a practical book of mantras. This bookstore […]
Quick! Read this before the year is over. From Sarah Blake’s high-low masterpiece “Mr. West.”
Just gonna call it: Naipaul dishing on Tolstoy smacking on Gandhi is the best thing I will read for the rest of this year. All three glorious days of it. From V. S. Naipaul’s “India: A Wounded Civilization.”
From “The Book of Endings” by Leslie Harrison.
About a week ago I finished reading Helen Macdonald’s “H is for Hawk,” a book ostensibly about falconry, but actually about grief and how it takes time and human contact to overcome it. Days after I read the passage above, which to me is the book’s crescendo despite the almost 150 unnecessary pages that follow, […]
My way into KiKi Petrosino’s latest collection Witch Wifewas through the poem “Afterlife.” Thanks to this poem, I realized the book was about getting dumped. And dumped. And dumped. But also about rising above the heart carnage to transform hurt into a magical handbook for survival. Petrosino is a witch whose wand is language, and who waves it deftly […]
Good morning, from Audre Lorde.
A vision of how wilderness has become the same as rarity. From “H is for Hawk,” a book to read in spread out installments so as to prevent contagion from its sustained melancholy. But, to read, nonetheless.
My plans for Sunday night put into action via Toni Morrison in “Sula.”